The Taj Conspiracy Read Online Free PDF Page B

parting revealing a high, wide forehead, his brows arched upwards from eyes that could be regarded as too big were they not balanced by the rest of the face. The nose, prominent, angular, was what could be called typically Kashmiri—the kind deployed by cartoonists to caricature Indira Gandhi. The mouth, medium-sized and bow-shaped, rested atop a surprisingly firm chin. His skin was unwrinkled, except for the forehead and the laughter lines around the eyes. What a splendidly handsome man, Mehrunisa thought, and wondered why he had never married.
    ‘Don’t eye me like that—someone might mistake it for love.’
    As Professor Kaul’s eyes crinkled, Mehrunisa started to giggle. This was the man she had always known, not the confused person she had witnessed earlier. Relieved, she clasped him in a hug.
    ‘Chirag tale andhera,’ Professor Kaul said after Mehrunisa had pulled a chair close to the bed. ‘What does it mean to you?’
    ‘Literally,’ Mehrunisa began, ‘the darkness underneath the lamp. The proverb is used to convey that something is amiss where it should not be.’ She paused and looked at her godfather, who urged her on.
    ‘So, why would it be scrawled near Arun’s body? What was he trying to say?’
    ‘Either of two people could have written it: Arun or the murderer,’ she replied. ‘The motive for each would be different, and we can’t determine who wrote it until the forensic report comes in.
    ‘So let’s focus on the text for now. What is it telling us? There is one chirag, lamp, right where the body was found,’ Kaul said, referring to the British viceroy’s gift.
    ‘Lord Curzon’s lamp,’ Mehrunisa nodded.
    ‘And what is literally beneath Curzon’s lamp? The two cenotaphs, which we know are false graves. The actual bodies were buried in a chamber underneath. Are the words referring to that chamber? What are we expected to find there?’
    Kaul ruminated for a while before turning to Mehrunisa. ‘How do you think Toor died?’
    ‘I don’t know,’ she shook her head, ‘but he was badly beaten. The wrist was the only open wound I saw.’
    ‘Yes, the wrist.... Wouldn’t a man who has the strength and alertness to cut himself and then write with his blood, attempt to walk out and seek help? Toor knew the night guards were not too far off—why not try and reach them, instead of expending energy on some writing? And wouldn’t the murderer want to make sure Toor was dead before he left? If he had even some familiarity with the Taj, he would know that the supervisor could alert the night security.’
    ‘Well, perhaps the murderer thought Arun would be too weak to call anyone considering how much he was beaten. And perhaps he was; maybe he only had the strength to leave these clues.’
    Kaul shook his head and said, ‘Then why not just write the murderer’s name?’
    ‘Because he was a stranger? He was wearing a mask that hid his face? He was ambushed and didn’t get to see his killer...’
    There was a note of desperation in her voice that the professor didn’t miss. The strain of the past twenty-four hours and the lack of sleep were showing. Quietly, he suggested they wait for forensics to reveal the cause of death. ‘That should clarify a few things,’ he said.
    After a few moments of silence, he continued, ‘You should go meet Raj Bhushan, thank him for the phone call to the Agra police and discuss what you saw with him. But wait for him to get better, though.’
    ‘Get better?’
    ‘He wasn’t in office yesterday when I called, and he wasn’t answering his cell phone, so I went over to his house and found him in bed, all covered up, hoarse voice.... A bad case of flu—all that travel, I think.’
    Mehrunisa knew he was alluding to Raj Bhushan’s work on a UNESCO project on World Heritage Management, wherein contemporary Delhi, with its rich heritage and rapid urban growth, was a case study for conservation. That, coupled with his programme to upgrade the ASI, kept him